


Of Silver Flame and Golden Rose

by OhForTheLoveOfSatan



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, Multi, Some Romance, so much sass, the nanowrimo rewrite no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhForTheLoveOfSatan/pseuds/OhForTheLoveOfSatan
Summary: What could make a Wizard, a hobbit, and a bunch of dwarves on an impossible quest even better? A fiery pixie, and damaged dragoness of course. Throw in a dash of cute baby Estel, some humorous travel shenanigans, a sprinkle of dark secrets and painful pasts and you've got an adventure you won't soon forget. Starts Rated M just to be safe (late mentions of trauma and abuse). Combination movie/book verse.The first "chapter" is Tolkien verse lore, so if you want to skip straight to the good stuff, Start at chapter 2 with the prologue.
Relationships: Fíli/OC, possible Bilbo/Thorin cause why not, some legolas/oc/Kili
Kudos: 3





	1. Tolkien's Timeline

**Author's Note:**

> So like this is originally a story I started on Fanfiction.net in 2013 (YIKES). So after an 8 year haitus, two college degrees, and a big girl job, your girl is back, stacked, and more inconsistent than ever. Welcome to the Nanowrimo inspired rewrite that nobody asked for. Maybe I'll actually finish it this time?  
> Who can say really...
> 
> To anyone who followed this story over from Fanfiction.net, holy shit you guys are amazing. 
> 
> -OhForTheLoveOfSatan (Formerly SNOstorm)

**The following content is not the first chapter of this story. It is a compilation of research regarding Tolkien’s world and Timeline through the events of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. 

. . . . .

Tolkien's Background  
Age of Arda abbreviations  
F.A. = first Age  
S.A. = Second Age  
T.A. = Third Age  
F.O. = Fourth Age 

. . . . . 

The Heir of Dunedain  
The Westron was the language of the Dunedain of Middle-earth. By the end of the Third Age it was more or less a universal language spoken throughout the Westlands. For this, it was also known as the Common Speech as it was adopted by Men, Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves and even Orcs, derived from the second age language of Adûnaic ("Language of the West").  
Estel (Aragorn before he knew he was Aragorn) was born March 1st T.A. 2931. His father Arathorn II was killed when he was 2 (in T.A. 2933). After the death of his father, his mother, Gilraen, took him to Rivendell seeking refuge. It was there that Elrond took Aragorn in as his ward, renaming him Estel in respect to his mother's wish to keep his lineage a secret. It was agreed that when Aragorn came of age in T.A. 2951, at the age of 21, his lineage would be revealed to him and he would be bestowed with the ring or Numenor.  
Aragorn's mother, Gilraen was born in T.A. 2873. She left Rivendell shortly after her arrival with her son, leaving the boy to be raised by Elrond so she could lead what remained of her people. She died in T.A. 3007 at the age of 100 (Aragorn being 76).  
During her childhood, Arwen did not live in Rivendell. She grew up in Lorien, her mother Celebrian's homeland, with her grandparent, Galadriel and Celebron. Upon her return to Rivendell, was when she met Aragorn and fell in love. In the year T.A. 2956, at the age of 25, Aragorn officially met Gandalf.

. . . . .

The Dwarves and their Quest  
In the year T.A. 2770, The Dragon Smaug destroyed Erebor and drove out the inhabitants of the Lonely Mountain. Smaug's race was that of the winged firedrakes, or the Uruloki. Almost 171 years later, in T.A. 2941, Thorin and company began the quest to the mountain and arrived at Rivendell. At that time, Aragorn would have been about 10 and still under the guise of Estel.  
Fili was born in T.A. 2859 and Kili in T.A. 2864. By the time the quest was underway, Fili was about 82 and Kili 77. Despite the 5 year difference in age, in the dwarves lifespan, the time is so small and their appearance so a like (according to the book) that they were often referred to as twins.  
Balin was the oldest of the dwarves. He was born in T.A. 2763 and died in T.A. 2994. During the quest he would have been about 178 years old (passing away at the age of 231). After the quest, he was given control of Moria and Khazad-dǔm. He is the oldest brother of Dwalin. Balin was buried in the same tomb found by the Fellowship in the Mines of Moria.  
Dwalin was born in T.A. 2772, dying in F.O. 91. During the quest, he was 169 year old. He is identified as being the only fully bald dwarf of the company as well as a distinguishing tattoo that decorates his head. In the long run, he lives out is big brother but the cause of his death is unknown.  
Bifur's appearance slightly resembles that of a skunk. . he has a large piece of an axe embedded in his head. He is related as a cousin with Bofur and bombur.  
Bofer is recognized by his funny-looking hat. Like Bifur and Bombour, his culture within the race of Dwarves, is either that of the Broadbeams or the Firebeards.  
Bombour is by far the largest of the company. In the Fellowship, Frodo inquires about him and Gimli informs him that the dwarf had gotten so large, that he could nolonger move without the aid of six dwarves.  
Oin was born in T.A. 2774 and died in T.A. 2994, being 167 at the time of the quest and 220 when he passed away. He's Gloin's older brother and uses a funny device for hearing.  
Gloin was born in T.A. 2783 and died in F.O. 15. By the time of the quest, he was about 158 years old. He's most recognizable for his red hair, being Gimli's father. He also makes a special appearance in the Fellowship at the Council of Elrond.  
Dori, Nori, and Ori are all brothers. I'm assuming Dori's the oldest because he's the only one with grey hair. Nori is known for his weird starish-shaped hair while Ori's is more of a bowl cut. Dori and Nori have a talent for playing the flute. Ori is the better known of the three, for carrying a journal. His body was found in Balin's tomb in Moria with a record of the great dwarf kingdom.  
Thorin Oakensheild was born in T.A. 2746. He was crowned the king of Durin's folk in T.A. 2850, at the age of 104. He was 195 when he took part in the quest and ultimately met his demise in the battle of five armies, shortly after crowning himself king under the mountain. Thorin's sister Dis is the mother of Kili and Fili, making Thorin their uncle.  
Gandalf came across Thorin's father when he (Thorin's father) was a prisoner of the Necromancer (Sauron). The dwarf, unbeknownst to Gandalf of his identity, gave the wizard a key and a map, telling him of the evil plans that could be achieved with the dragon Smaug's aid. So Gandalf set out to destroy the threat.

. . . . .

The Elves of Mirkwood  
Thranduil  
Thranduil, the Elvenking, is a Sinda (grey elf) King of the Silvan Elves of Mirkwood in the Woodland Realm. The grey elves are elves of Telerin descent, from Doriath and Beleriand, often reffered to as "Elves of the Twilight." Within the Mirkwood, he had his halls underground, partly in memory (it was said) of the mighty but long-lost Menegroth of Doriath. They lay near the Forest River behind great gates.  
Thranduil is the heir of Thingol and son of Oropher, as well as the father of Legolas (and my OC Calawyn). In S.A. 3434 Thranduil followed his father, and some thirty thousand lightly armed Elves in the War of the Last Alliance. In the Battle of Dagorlad Oropher was slain with the greater part of his people but his son survived. After the Siege of Barad-dûr in S.A. 3441 when Sauron was defeated, Thranduil led the remainder of his people north back to the Woodland Realm, where he was crowned king.  
With the return of Sauron around T.A. 1050 southern Greenwood became dangerous and was renamed Mirkwood. Creatures like great spiders came to dwell in Mirkwood and Thranduil's folk retreated to the northeastern corner of Mirkwood, where they fortified themselves near the Forest River. The Grey elves despise the race of dragons, or Darastrix, because the Dragon Smaug had brutalized them for years after taking over the lonely mountain.  
On March 21, T.A. 3018 Aragorn delivered Gollum as a prisoner to Thranduil. He was guarded day and night, but the Elves pitied him and allowed him to climb a tree that stood alone. When one night in June of 3018, Gollum refused to come down, the Elves were attacked by Orcs and Gollum could escape in the confusion. Thranduil sent his son Legolas to Rivendell to inform Elrond, and in the Council of Elrond Legolas was selected as one of the nine members of the Company of the Ring.  
On March 15, T.A. 3019, during the war of the ring, an army of Sauron from Dol Guldur, tasked with destroying the Woodland Realm, attacked Mirkwood. There was a long battle under the trees and the woods were set on fire. But in the end Thranduil defeated the invaders. On April 6, Thranduil met Celeborn, the Lord of Lórien, in the midst of Mirkwood. Celeborn's forces had crossed the Anduin and had stormed Dol Guldur. Galadriel, the Lady of Lórien, had come after them, throwing down the walls of Dol Guldur and laying bare its pits. Thranduil had cleared all the orcs and foul beings from North Mirkwood, so that the forest was cleansed and Sauron's empire in the North was destroyed. Because the Shadow over Mirkwood was lifted, Thranduil and Celeborn renamed it Eryn Lasgalen, the Wood of Greenleaves. They divided it up, so that Thranduil received the northern part as far as the Mountains, and Celeborn took the southern part below the Narrows, naming it East Lórien. The wide forest in-between was given to the Beornings and the Woodmen.

Legolas  
Legolas was a Sindarin Elf of the Silvan realm of Mirkwood, the only recorded son of King Thranduil. He became famous because of his membership in the Fellowship of the Ring, in which he served as one of their most valuable assets because of his superior sight, hearing, lightness of foot, and unrivaled archery.  
Upon meeting Gandalf the white, he was delivered the message, "Legolas Greenleaf long under tree, In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea! If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore, Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more," from Galadriel. He had never before come near to the Sea, for his heart became suddenly torn when he heard the Gulls at Pelargir, and could never remove their mewing from his mind. His naiveté is demonstrated again when Legolas comments that Aragorn has journeyed further than he has.  
During the battle of helms deep, at the time the Fire of Orthanc blew out a piece of the wall, his quiver was nearly empty. With the last arrow the elf saved Aragorn's life when he stumbled while pursued. At the end of the battle, Legolas had shot a total of forty-one, though Gimli surpassed his count by one. He did not like the stony structure of the man- made keep, missing the wide open forests of the Mirkwood. Afterwards, on the way to Isengard, Legolas promises Gimli that he will go to Aglarond, the glittering caves, should they both survive the war to come.  
Amidst the Paths of the Dead, riding with the Grey Company, Legolas alone (save for Elladan and Elrohir, Elrond's sons) felt no fear of the Dead Men, and it may be remembered that the High Elves had power both in the worlds of the seen and unseen.  
Legolas rode for the last time into battle beside his friends to the Battle of the Morannon. He witnessed the Fall of the Dark Tower, and after the battle attended the ceremonies of the Field of Cormallen in the honor of Frodo and Samwise and their victory. That night Legolas would not go to bed, but instead went away to walk in the woods, singing of the Sea.  
a birthdate for Legolas is set to 87 of the Third Age. This would make him 2931 years old at the time of the War of the Ring

. . . . .


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin Oakenshield was not the only witness to the desolation of Smaug...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! In case you've skipped the first chapter of me nerding out over Tolkien and the Simarillion, this is in fact the first chapter. And by first chapter, I mean the prologue. 
> 
> I've also included after the prologue a section called "role call" with my list of OCs that will feature in the story and a bit of backstory. Read at your own discression I suppose. 
> 
> Anyways! I present to you what I like to call "Lyra's Hot take Moment Before Disaster."   
> Let's kick the pig, shall we?

Prologue

T.A. 2770 : The Fall of Dale

The frosty summit of the lonely mountain was nothing like the sea-kissed peaks of Andrast. Cold and unforgiving, the solitary mountain loomed over the city of Dale.   
She’d arrived in Dale a few days past, following a trail of reports from the people detailing a dragon responsible for stealing local cattle and maidens. So far there hadn’t been any mention of stolen valuables, but spring was still new to the horrors that would awaken with the summer heat.   
Lyra scanned skyline, following the outline of the mountains ashen slopes until her eyes came to rest on the entrance to Erabor. This was what she’d come for. The dwarven city of shameless wealth, which alone would draw both magpie and dragon alike. But more, she came for the wave of energy the stronghold leaked, for the Arkenstone that Thrór, the King of Durin's Folk, claimed a divine demonstration his power to rule. It was trouble. She was certain of it. And yet the skies remained quiet.   
Dale itself was a friendly and hospitable town. Though Erabor overshadowed the city’s wealth tenfold, Dale was host to a wonder of traders harkening from all lands, races, and walks of life. She strolled lazily through the toy market, scenting the different woods and materials used by the city’s craftsmen and women. Somewhere down the line, food sizzled in a wok, diffusing a pleasant aroma among the buzz of traders haggling in different tongues.   
Perhaps she would make this place her home for a while. Elladon and Elrohir had fought hard to entice her to remain in Imaldris, but Lyra’s wanderlust had yet to be quieted. Not while there were still monsters in the world. Cities like this, however, gave her hope. Dale was proof that different people could live together in harmony.   
But what Lyra loved the most about Dale, was its bells. The great copper charms rang out on the hour, filling the air with pleasant vibrations that made her skin tingle. And for just a moment, she could forget about the sickening pull of the Arkenstone which pulsed like a migraine behind her eyes.   
She’d already attempted to warn the city’s governing lord, Girion, but the people here –while terribly friendly– were drunk off peace and prosperity. It was a pattern she’d seen many times over the years. This peace would not last.   
Lyra took one last look at the market, drinking in the colors, the smells, and the sounds as the bells reached their final toll. Then turning on her heel, she set her eyes once more on the gates of Erabor.   
One day soon the great bells of Dale would ring off hour, in frenzied panic. The sky would turn dark with smoke and ash, and from that darkness the dragon Smaug would descend. By then, it would be too late to run.   
It was only a matter of time. 

[Chapter ends here; below is a list of features characters & Backstory]

. . . . .

Character Role Call

**Note: The Quenya dialect of elvish is spoken in Valinor and among the remnants of the Noldor in Middle-earth: the Grey Havens and Rivendell. The Sindarin dialect of elvish is the language of one of the groups of Elves that tried to make the journey to Valinor, but got lost on the way there: Mirkwood. Appropriate labels and translations have been included.

Primary OCs  
**Just learned Tolkien doesn’t do surnames, just titles sooo…**

Lírëlin (Silver Song) (Westeros Traveler Name: Lyra)  
Other titles: 

Elen Amil – star mother (Quenya)  
lócëhin – Dragon child (Quenya)   
Gildin – Silver Spark (Sindarin)  
Ogolinwas – Evil woman (Sindarin)

Biography:  
Child of Pasithea Gwanwen and Smaug. Sister to Astaur and Falfnêl.   
Born and raised in Eren Mithrin (The Grey Mountains). As Morgoth and chief Sauron's dark powers grew and spread across the land, her father fell victim to its madness, which fed off of his greed and desires. He began showing violent behavior towards his children, forcing them into fights with impossible odds and punishing them when they failed. Shortly after Lírëlin and her brothers took their mother and fled to the Andrast (the White Mountains) where at the age of 193 she and her brothers witnessed the downfall of Sauron, taking common names (hers being Lyra) and aiding the forces of Numenor and the men of the north, the Dunedain.   
After the famous battle that brought the second age to an end, Lyra separated from her brothers to travel, maturing with the young kingdoms. She ended up in Imaldris (Rivendell), where she befriended Elrond and his sons, Elladon and Elrohir.  
When Elrond's wife, Celebrian was captured by orcs in T.A. 2509, Lyra (being 2072 years old at this point) aided the elf brothers in her rescue. And it was there, among the dead and tortured bodies of the elves, Lyra found something unexpected. It was there that she met a faerie named Anoriell.

Anoriell (Sun daughter) (Westeron Traveler Name: Anori)   
Other titles: 

Laurëllótë – Gold Flower (Quenya)  
Wilwarin – butterfly (Quenya)  
Othmîwer – Useless & frail one (Sindarin)  
Glawcyll – Sun bearer (Sindarin)

Biography:  
The Faerie, or fey, are descendants of the Valar and cousins of the elves. They are a forgotten race, previously hunted down by the Easterlings of Rhûn thought of as nothing more than stories. But they survive, in the deepest darkest and wildest parts of the world, withdrawn.  
Anoriell is the eldest child of the king and Queen of the Fey, born in the year 3236 of the Second Age. She was born into a dwindling kingdom and, along with her sisters Sûlrain (wind wanderer), Gellsîdh (peaceful daughter), and Rosswen (Noble rain) she worked tirelessly to cultivate what little remained of their people in the city of Meduibardh (the last home), located on an island in the Sea of Rhûn.   
At her coming of age, she was entrusted with a Simaril, one of the lost three. Her childhood was refined and educated, full of worldly knowledge and compassion for all that suffered from the cruelty of man. But she was restless and young, anxious to get out into the world and explore. In T.A. 2509, during her 2714th year, Anoriell and her sister Sûlrain were ambushed during a trip to Lorien to request aid for their people. The orcs who ambushed them quickly took the faeries into captivity where they endured horrible tortures. No one knows what happened to the simaril Anoriell protected, only that it was lost during her time spent tortured by orcs until the fortress was stormed by elves and an intriguing woman named Lyra.   
After months of rehabilitation Anoriell and Sûlrain were finally able to return home, though both greatly changed by their experiences. Unable to settle, Anoriell abdicated her right to rule, leaving her home once more, and adopting the name Anori, during her travels in search of the woman, Lyra, who had saved her from a fate of orcish corruption. She found said woman in Imaldris (Rivendell) and quickly attached herself becoming fast friends despite an initially chilled reception. Anori even had the honor of meeting Lyra’s mother before she and Celebrian left for the undying lands. 

Secondary OCs

Dûlalaith (Laughter of Night)  
Other titles:

Nolmo - wise woman (Quenya)  
Tindómisel – Nightingale (Quenya)  
Morwen – Night maiden (Sindarin)  
Ogron Corch – wicked crow (Sindarin) 

The Brothers of Lírëlin: (Also referred to as lócëhin – Dragon child) (Quenya)  
Astaur (Morning Sun Dust) (Westeron Traveler Name: Astor)   
Falfnêl (Tooth Breaker) (Westeron Traveler Name: Fafnír) 

Sisters of Anoriell: (Also referred to as Wilwarin – butterfly) (Quenya)  
Sûlrain (wind wanderer)   
Gellsîdh (peaceful daughter)  
Rosswen (Noble rain)

Honorable Mentions

Pathistia (filled with knowledge) (Simarillion OC)  
Other titles:  
Gwanawen – Lost to time (Sindarin)  
Siquilessë – Weeping willow, Lamentation (Quenya)

Daughter of the maiar Melian and Elu Thingol, king of Doriath. Sister to Lύthien of Tinύuiel (See the Simarillion). Spouse of Smaug and mother of Astaur, Falfnêl, and Lírëlin. 

Elladon and Elrohir (these two actually exist but we never get to see them)

Twin sons of Elrond's and Celebrian. Brothers to Arwen. Stormed the orc fortress responsible for capturing their mother in T.A. 2509 with Lírëlin (Lyra). Very close with both Lírëlin and Anoriell and function as adoptive uncles to Estel (Aragorn). They often watch over Estel whenever Lírëlin is away.


	3. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Bilbo. He's going on an adventure.  
> Meet Anori. She's a total troll.  
> Meet Lyra. She just works here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well would you look at that. Could it be the beginning of this story?  
> I think I gotta sit down...

The door to Bag End cracked sharply against the side of Bilbo's hobbit hole. It was a noise unbefitting of any respectable Hobbiton residence, and yet here he was, breaking apart the peaceful morning with the clattering of his traveling back and all the necessities it held.  
His footsteps beat rhythmically against the dirt road as he raced through Hobbiton. In his hast through the shire, he quite literally bumped into a few neighbors. They met his enthusiasm with exclamations of surprise and inquiries to his destination, all of which he answered with, "I'm going on an adventure!"  
It was when he reached the forest and the end of his known world that he faltered. The forest path stretched out before him, splitting into two paths. Already his stomach recoiled with that all-encompassing fear of the unknown.  
"Oh dear.” He shuffled his feet nervously. “Which way do I go?"  
"That's a silly question.” Something whizzed by Bilbo’s right ear. He flinched, nearly tripping over himself as a tinkling voice chortled. "You go forward of course."  
Bilbo cried out in shock, backing into the brush while his eyes darted haphazard around the green expanse. "Who said that? Who's there?"  
“That would be Anori,” a second voice intoned softly from behind him. “I'm afraid she doesn't grasp the concept of a rhetorical question.”  
The hobbit was already jumpy when he bumped into the solid mass. When said mass huffed with breath, Bilbo nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around with flailing arms and what he hoped was a fearsome cry. When no attack came, he slowly unscrewed his eyes finding himself eye to eye with a horse, at which point he promptly cried out in shock falling back on his bottom.  
A soft chuckle drew his eyes upwards until he found himself staring up at the figure leaning over the saddle. She hopped down from her perch on the horse, a deep cowl shadowing her countenance as she extended a hand to the stunned Hobbit.  
“Are you alright?” The query was so quiet that Bilbo caught himself questioning whether she’d even spoken it aloud.  
Cautiously Bilbo accepted the hand. Her hands were rough and calloused, pulling him to his feet with ease. A striking pair of amber eyes glittered down at him from within the shadows of her cowl, meticulously picking him apart.  
“I’m -yes- I am quite fine, thank– thank you miss..” he trailed off uncertainly, catching sight of the pale scars that marred the right side of her face. It was hardly proper for a woman to sport scars. None of the women in Hobbiton carried such scars.  
Then again, the women of Hobbiton were softer, with heart shaped faces and enviable curves. Everything about this woman’s features were hard and angular. She had none of the softness of a hobbit. She had the posture of a warrior. Even the hands that righted him, had been rough and calloused. Perhaps this… blemish phenomenon was more common outside the shire. The thought made Bilbo frown.  
The woman, who had been watching Bilbo's expressions change, touched her scars with her free hand. “Everyone has a story. Some are just easier to read than others.”  
Bilbo stuttered, caught in her wide, unblinking gaze, "W-well I… Y-you…"  
The woman cocked her head to the side, her lips twitching at the corners.  
For the second time that morning something whizzed by Bilbo’s ear, the left one this time. And for the second time that morning –or was it the third? Goodness this was starting to get embarrassing– Bilbo squealed like one of Famer Maggot’s pigs.  
"Excuse Lyra, she doesn't grasp the concept of Introductions." The same twinkling voice from before rang out into the morning, though this time it grew louder and deeper, losing its musical quality until it finally reached a more human pitch. “She always seems to forget the introduce yourself part.”  
A pair of hands grasped Bilbo’s shoulders from behind as a petite woman with short glossy ringlets and mischievous brown eyes leaned over his shoulder to leer at her friend. She then pushed off the hobbit with a giggle and bowed dramatically with a flourish of her hands and what Bilbo would have sworn were sparkles falling from her clothes and hair, "Anori, at your service. And that lovely mess over there is Lyra."  
Bilbo gaped at Anori. She was unlike anything he’d ever seen. She resembled a short elf in stature though nothing else. It was as though the night itself had kissed her, with skin the color of Brandybuck’s famous dark roast coffee and a constellation of pale freckles that shimmered like stars. Her eyes stared back at him, a pair of dark blackberries challenging him to risk a sour mouthful for a sweet reward.  
Lyra sighed at Bilbo’s fixation and in a fluid motion, proceeded to elbow the shorter woman in the ribs. “You're doing it again.”  
Anori in turn folded her arms in a pout and raised an eyebrow, "And you’re no fun.”  
Overwhelmed by the two creatures in front of him, Bilbo nearly missed the rippling of skin on Anori’s arms, which upon further inspection appeared to be laced with varied degrees of burn scars. Another warrior.  
Pasting a smile on his face, Bilbo cleared his throat nervously, "Well, it was nice to meet you, but I really should be going now."  
Anori, moving with speed much faster than he would have guessed, was suddenly in front of him waving a finger in his face, "Ah, ah, a-ah" she chided lightly, "You don't even know where you’re going."  
“But we do,” Lyra completed the thought.  
Bilbo gulped eyes wide, "Oh dear."


	4. The Company of Thorin Oakenshield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anori makes an entrance.  
> Gandalf has expectations.   
> Lyra says no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mind me. Just crying over the death of Unus Annus. Memento Mori. RIP Bois.

Chapter 4

Bilbo gulped eyes wide, "Oh dear."  
Lyra watched the color drain from the hobbit's face, waiting patiently for the young man to cycle through the stages of grief. She waited patiently for him to come to terms with the inevitability of death. Then she decided to take pity.   
“That is unless you would prefer to walk on your own to the company of Thorin Oakenshield. Though,” she mused, “this may be your last chance at enjoying the quiet for some time, Mister Baggins.”  
"How do you know my name?" the hobbit's lower lips trembled, a clear sign that he was on the verge of a meltdown.  
Anori rolled her eyes, "Gandalf told us, of course. When he asked us to be a part of the company."   
"You're part of the company?" He exclaimed in exasperation, then in realizing his poor decorum clamped a hand over his mouth in dismay. “Wait! That’s not what I meant!”  
The two women exchanged bemused glances. Lyra bent down to the hobbit's level to address him. “Perhaps you would like us to take you to your companions now, Master Hobbit.”  
It was not a question.  
Bilbo opened and closed his mouth a few times but only managed to stutter a few incoherent words before his voice failed him altogether and he nodded vigorously.   
"Oh my," Anori giggled, "I do believe you've broken him."  
Lyra frowned, digesting the comment with a few silent blinks before turning abruptly away, suddenly very interested in her Horse's gear.  
"Don't mind her," Anori whispered conspiratorially, slinging an arm around Bilbo’s shoulders. "Lyra doesn't know of the effect she has on people… specifically men."  
“I heard that,” Lyra muttered flatly from around the other side of the Dapple grey mare. She paused once to peer over the crest of the saddle, eyes surveying them skeptically. “Well, are you coming or not?”  
Once Bilbo was settled on the saddle, Lyra pulled herself up behind him. He stared down at Anori, a frown creasing his features, "Will we all be able to fit on here?"   
The smaller woman opened and closed her mouth a few times before replying. "Ah, I don't ride…"  
Then how'll you get anywhere?" He asked, completely missing the woman's closed tone.  
A smile played around Lyra’s lips. “Yes, Nori, however will you get places like this? Such poor planning on our part.”  
“Oh Ha-Ha” Anori mocked, stomping one foot in her petulance. “Now get going you hedge pigs!”  
A smooth laugh rumbled from Lyra’s chest as she And with that, she gently prodded the mare with her toe. Bilbo stuttered in protest as they begin to pull away from a pouting Anori.   
“Patience master Hobbit,” she spoke, once again reading the hobbit’s distressed expression. “Have you no appreciation for surprises?”  
Skeptical, Bilbo scowled up at her. "You talk like Gandalf, in riddles."  
Though he could not see her face, Bilbo was sure Lyra was smiling. The woman shifted in the saddle behind him, “I will take that as a compliment. I find the unknown exciting. The search for understanding is what makes life worth living. Is that not why you joined the quest willingly?”  
After mulling over her words for a second, Bilbo muttered, "Still, it would be nice to know what it is exactly that I'm getting myself into."  
“That it would, Master Baggins,” Lyra sighed in agreement, That it would.   
. . . . .

To say that Gandalf was surprised when Bilbo came running up the path waving the contract and declaring that he had signed it… would be a lie.  
What he was not prepared for, however, was the high-pitched voice calling his name, nor the minuscule pixie that followed flying smack dab into his hat with a muffled, "oof!"  
Anori poked her head over the rim of his hat, staring upside down at the wizard with an enthusiastic smile, "Hiya!"  
Gandalf chuckled, holding out a hand, palm up for the little faerie to drop onto, "Little Laurëllótë, I do believe you've shrunk." He kept his voice low even though the rest of the company was easily distracted by Bilbo’s commotion, "Where is our friend?"  
Flipping over the grey hat’s rim, Anori landed neatly in his open hand, "Oh she's coming. We've brought Apple," she babbled, referring to the Dapple-grey mare. "Mister Baggins jumped out of the saddle soon as we caught ear of you all."  
The Wizard smiled at the faerie, "Never change, dear one."  
The pixie giggled and zipped away, doing backflips as she went. Slipping in and out of the company, she managed to parse the names of her new companions, and size them up for good measure.   
She darted around the company, sizing each of them up. The dwarves, enthralled with Bilbo’s arrival and the consequent exchange of bet money, made no notice of the miracle flitting amongst them. Then, as quickly as she had come, she was gone, disappearing into the undergrowth of the surrounding forestry with a trail of sparkles.   
Gandalf watched the departure with a secretive smile and waited patiently for the woman to make her entrance. He was not disappointed.   
After a few moments, a dramatic call sounded from within the shadows of the wood. “I do hope we are not too late!”   
The entire company, save Bilbo and Gandalf, spun around in surprise at the sound of the new voice. Lyra steered the grey mare out from the bracket, her hood pulled low. Anori on the otherhand stood poised and balance on the seat-rise of Apple’s saddle, hands planted firmly on her hips.   
Allowing her friend to hold the company’s attention, Lyra quietly addressed the wizard. “I am afraid we were held up at Bree. Some… unrespectable characters there.”  
"I'm certain it wasn't too much of a problem for you to handle," Gandalf replied jokingly.   
"Certainly.” The woman’s eyes twinkled with concealed mirth. "But you know us. Occasionally there comes a few heads that need to be knocked together."  
"And who," Thorin's voice boomed over their hushed words, "Are you?"   
"You can call me Anori." The shorter woman piqued with a flourish before gesturing to her friend.   
“Lyra,“ The latter inclined her head in greeting.   
"We are at your service!" Anori finished gleefully, "I've wanted to say that for ages."   
Lyra let vent a long-suffering sigh. “She is not kidding. She’s been practicing since we left Tharbad.”  
To her credit, Anori covered her displeasure at the barb with enthusiasm. She hailed Gandalf as though they had not just exchanged greetings and regaled him of their the highlights of their journey, detailing their trip from Fangorn, as well as important stops such as Ost-in-Edhil, Tharbad, and finally Bree.  
During this extended story, Thorin made pointed eye contact with Gandalf. The message was clear: Are you responsible for this?  
Once again, the wizard found himself smothering a smile. This seemingly senseless babbling on Anori’s part was anything but meaningless and Gandalf knew it, which is why he didn't stop it. The faerie, being the more social of the two and having already scoped out the company, used this technique as a way to allow Lyra to size up the party for herself, familiarizing scents and feeling out any irregularities within them.  
Once Anori finally finished her not-so-brief tale, a white-haired dwarf spoke up not unkindly, "Perhaps introductions are in order."  
The fey smiled warmly at the older Dwarf, "Oh there's no need, Balin, though it is thoughtful of you to offer." She exchanged a quick glance with Lyra before turning back to the company and naming each and everyone, accurately pointing to each to match them with their name, "Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Dwalin, Balin, Bifer, Bofur, Bombour, Dori, Nori, Ori, and of course, Thorin Oakensheild. Did I get it all?"  
Gandalf chuckled at the stunned faces of the company. Thorin, however, found no amusement in the strange woman's excessive knowledge of his company. Such events spoke too strongly of the wizard's work. He dismissed the quieter of the two and glared at the cheeky fey, staring her down with cold eyes, "It would appear you have us at a disadvantage, miss Anori."  
Anori blinked at the Dwarf's biting tone, cindered eyes flickering with gleeful challenge. "Disadvantage is a term for opposition. I have simply made observations, no threats."   
Though Thorin's wrathful gaze was well focused on her, the pixie was not one to be pushed around. She had witnessed much scarier in her life thus far and was not about to be subdued by a stubborn dwarf.   
She hopped from the saddle and approached, staring brazenly up at the Dwarf king, meeting his eyes as evenly. Her aim was to be cool and calm however, it was not in her to hide away the golden ribbons that pulsed to life in the sable depths of her gaze.   
Thorin not caring for this unspoken battle of wits that ensured, snarled, "Then what are you? Friend? Or Foe?"  
“That…” Lyra, who had remained relatively quiet until then, immediately captured everyone’s attention, “Is entirely up to you.”  
Thorin's scrutiny immediately snapped to the other woman, who sat astride Apple, her unblinking gaze ready and waiting. Unlike Anori’s barely concealed temper, there was no emotion in these pools of amber, only a cold and solid wall stained with the echoes of a horrible past. He didn't have to see the extensive scars on the woman to know that she was a hardened soul. But that didn't mean that he would go soft by any means on her, "And if I say no?"  
Lyra arched an eyebrow. “No to what? I have yet to ask anything of you.”  
"The quest..." One of the younger Dwarves by the name of Fili spoke up. His brother Kili finished for him, "… You obviously wish to join."  
Gandalf coughed to cover his chuckle. The trees overhead rustled with unshed laughter. Even Apple seemed to wicker in amusement.   
"Obviously," Anori stated, emphasizing the word, "we aren't asking."   
Lyra nodded solemnly. “We are simply informing you that we will be accompanying you.”  
"But you don't have a contract," Bilbo pointed out timidly.   
"Why should we need one?” Anori tilted her head questioningly.   
Balin put his hands up in a gesture of peace, "What he means is that we have already divided up the shared of treasure between the fourteen of us. Not to mention that we cannot guarantee that you will make it back alive and we must make sure that our company will be that of which will remain till the very end."  
Lyra nodded thoughtfully. “We have no interest in your quest.”  
Gandalf choked on his laugh. He’d been afraid of this.   
Seeing the confusion on the dwarves' faces, Anori took pity and elaborated. “Gandalf did ask us to join your quest, and that monster deserves to be disposed of in the most violent of ways,” she paused glancing at her friend. “But we have no interest in any treasure, nor any interest in committing ourselves to such promises.”   
“There are more important things,” Lyra affirmed with sharp eyes.  
Gandalf opened his mouth to argue only for Thorin to interject triumphantly, “Then you are not joining the Company.”  
“Or you are but for a short time,” Balin finished.   
Anori leaped nimbly onto the horse behind Lyra, a satisfied smirk on her face, "Exactly. Glad we are all on the same page."  
Without waiting for confirmation, Lyra spurred on the horse, passing the very confused company and down the pathway. She cast one glance over her shoulder, past the company, catching Gandalf’s eyes with her own. The message was clear. Her mind was made up.   
"What just happened?" Asked Fili, to which Kili responded with a baffled shake of the head and a grin.  
The wizard brooded to himself. He would have to speak with Lyra. Anori would not circumnavigate her friend’s decision, which meant he’d have to go straight to the source. The trouble was he had a pretty good idea what was holding Lyra back, and that would be difficult to match.   
"What were their names again?" asked Oin   
"Quite disorienting those two are," Ori blinked, shaking his head,  
"The one with the quick tongue is Anori and the quiet force of will is Lyra." Bilbo informed me, pleased to have an edge on this particular topic.   
"Peculiar names," Balin noted.   
"What do you suppose they are?" Nori asked curiously, "That little one looks quite like an elf."  
"Maybe that's why Uncle Thorin doesn't like 'em," Kili muttered to his brother, earning himself a warning glance.  
Gandalf spurred his horse on, "I believe that you would have to ask them to acquire this information." He clucked to himself, "And by Aulë, I would be surprised indeed if they shared this information with you. Surprised indeed."   
And with that, the Maiar galloped off to meet up with the two strange women.  
Thorin sighed, "Well, let's get on with it. We're wasting time sitting here gossiping."  
It was in this way that Anori and Lyra became the unofficial additions to the company of Thorin Oakenshield…. For a time anyway.


End file.
